Since the Chinese government’s recent self-appointment as the world’s guardians of journalistic integrity, symbolised by its ludicrously overstated (not to mention hypocritical) ‘western bias’ narrative, there has been a great sense of national unity among Chinese people both at home and abroad.

This was made possible by tapping into that deepest of institutionalised Chinese psychoses, the one that presents Chinese people as history’s victim, pitching them in a battle against the rest of the world. The dangers of arousing such feelings have been evident in the outpourings of nationalistic fervour that have led to anti-western campaigns against media, businesses, governments, and human rights protesters.

These are unworthy, unjustified, negative, volatile, and ultimately wasteful forms of national unity. They also have the additional disadvantage of invoking widespread antagonism and criticism from the international community.

Last Monday afternoon, at about 2:30, Mother Nature gave humanity another reminder of the fragility of life. There’s nothing good about the suffering inflicted by natural disasters on this scale, but through adversity we witness examples of selfless acts, courage, and a togetherness too often lacking in our disaster-free interludes: the worst side of Mother Earth produces the best side of human nature. Thus, the last four agonising days have witnessed a universal bonding of blood, sweat, and tears to bring relief to the victims of Monday’s earthquake.

These are the worthy, justified, positive, compassionate, and rewarding forms of national unity. They also have the additional merit of invoking unequivocal sympathy and support from the international community.

Media coverage of the quake’s aftermath hasn’t been pulling any punches, drawing global praise for its openness. Widespread admiration has also been expressed for the speed of the official response to the tragedy and the deployment of manpower to the worst affected regions. If only Burma could have (or would) respond with the same urgency and sense of moral responsibility, thousands of lives could have been saved and the suffering of countless others alleviated.    

From the towns close to the epicentre have come pictures and videos of seismic destruction and loss of life. Scenes of parents calling for children buried beneath the rubble of collapsed schools are moving beyond words, as are the all too infrequent – and diminishing – survival stories.

In the midst of this maelstrom of emotions, prime minister Wen Jiabao has been a constant source of reassurance. He was in Sichuan Province within hours of the quake, letting survivors know that help was on the way and further enhancing his reputation as a man of the people. His concern has been palpable and utterly sincere, reminding me that he was alongside Zhao Ziyang in I989 appealing to the demonstrators.  

On a side note, which is where it belongs, the torch relay has been toned down as the Olympic juggernaut has been put firmly in its place by something of incalculably greater importance.

In the meantime, sympathy to the victims of this disaster and praise to the Chinese media for the speed and openness of their reporting from the affected region.

Update

This blogger was in his 26th floor Mianyang apartment when the quake struck. He’s been back up there against orders a few times to report on the situation as news filters in from neighbouring towns.

Before I get bombarded with calls to get my facts straight, I’m sure that ‘Everest’ must have been uttered or written before by China’s state manacled information outlets; it’s just that on all previous occasions that I’ve seen or heard their references to the daddy of the Himalayas, it has always been called the tongue-twisting ‘Qomolangma’. Quite right, too, I might add, although Tibetans prefer ‘Chomolungma’ and the Nepalese have a fondness for ‘Sagarmatha’.

Today, however, marked a new milestone of symbolism that called for the world to know exactly what had been achieved. The only way to convey this important message was to grudgingly acknowledge that the world’s highest peak has a more recognisable and less phonologically challenging moniker: Everest.

So, what was this remarkable feat that the Chinese wished communicated to the English-speaking world? It could only be the latest claim to greatness of the torch relay. China’s very own superlative-laden global tour (longest, angriest, loudest, most protested, most politicised etc) came of age this morning at approximately 9am local time when it also became the highest.

Once the summit had been achieved, all that remained to do for China’s Olympic PR machine in order to secure the positive coverage and global accolades it desired, was to get the word out. Unfortunately, ‘Qomolangma’ is not a word that currently has any hope of achieving such an objective. To secure the prize, therefore, it was necessary to swallow the bitter pill of imperialism and utter the hitherto unthinkable ‘E’ word.   

Australian anchorman Edwin Marr made a valiant effort with his pronunciation of ‘Qomolangma’ before adding an officially sanctioned “…known in the west as Everest.” His relief was palpable.

Not so clear were the pictures of the torch expedition’s assault on the summit. I guess that’s not surprising given the unpredictability of conditions at 29 000 feet. The perfect propaganda shot would have been a gallant climber astride the roof of the world holding aloft a flaming torch against a stunning backdrop of blue skies and lesser Himalayan peaks. As it was, we saw a dozen people in climbing gear struggling against the elements in a nondescript icy wilderness.

It really could have been anywhere, and it didn’t look like anyone was standing on top of anything. There’s certainly nothing conclusively ’summit’ about the pictures at China Daily. Let the conspiracy theories begin. For the record, I’m prepared to give them the benefit of the doubt. After all, it’s been done a thousand times (without the torch) in the last 55 years.

One nagging question: having gone to all that trouble, why not plant an Olympic flag atop the world’s highest peak and give us a picture like this. Nagging questions could be avoided, of course, if members of the international media had been allowed a little more access to information than this diary of events on the mountain indicates.

As southern Asia’s powerhouse and self-appointed guardian of peace, harmony, and regional stability, where the hell is China when their neighbours need them?

State media have been updating on the climbing death toll as the scale of the cyclone disaster unfolds, but in the same manner that they might report a minor landslip on the other side of the planet. Newsflash: this is happening next door - so pull your fingers out!

If China was sending in bundles of aid, we’d have heard about it. And even if they can’t spare the manpower or rice, why not whisper in their friend the Junta’s ear about letting other foreign aid workers in to help alleviate some of the suffering? Or would that be interfering in another county’s internal affairs? You’re damn right it would, and in a most positive, humane, and responsible way.

The Chinese government have influential relationships with many of the world’s despots, including Burma’s (or Myanmar’s, if you will) brutal leaders. For China to earn universal plaudits they need only use their leverage to intervene on purely humanitarian grounds. The people of Burma are waiting for their big brother to step up.

China is on the doorstep, yet the pleas for entry and offers of assistance, at time of writing at least, are coming mainly from countries thousands of miles distant from the disaster zone.  I understand Hu Jintao is a little tied up in Japan right now, but he watches the news, doesn’t he? 

1. The abundance, despite over a billion mouths to feed, of an amazing array of fresh, cheap fruit and vegetables.

2. The overwhelming hospitality of students, friends, and colleagues and the undying enthusiasm with which they insist I should eat more.

3. The ubiquitous scene of cyclists giving a lift to friends sitting on the saddle rack. In this regard, given that boys are usually expected to do the pedalling, small partners and friends are a bonus.

4. The staggering variety of inexpensive food available from street vendors. It’s an experience just to watch them prepare their offerings.  

5. The sheer scale and rate of development that is happening at every turn in the cities, and the contrasting lifestyles of those living in the countryside. Of course, I don’t ‘love’ the fact that hundreds of millions are still waiting for their slice of modern, prosperous China; but the contrast that a short bike ride can present to you is fascinating. 

6. The traffic. Again, I don’t ‘love’ the shocking casualty figures on the Chinese highway, but you have to be enthralled by the culturally distinct way that Chinese motorists, bus drivers, cyclists, and pedestrians conduct themselves on (and off) the road. The novice observer would be forgiven for frequent wincing at the number of near misses, and for describing the scene using the language of chaos. Once acclimatised, however, it really is compulsive viewing.

7. The incredible number of temples, monuments, ancient sites, and stunning natural beauty that can be found in a huge country with a long, long history.

8. The faces of young children, especially outside the big city, and their innocent curiosity at discovering that foreigners really do exist. Naturally, a few run screaming in panic to their mothers, who have no doubt told their offspring not to get too close in case the laowai bites them.

9. The strong exercise ethic that is evident each morning and evening everywhere in China. Young and old alike flood to the parks, playgrounds, and subways to dance, jog, stretch, practise tai chi, or engage in any number of other traditional activities and games. Many older residents subscribe to the health benefits of walking backwards; for the young and agile, basketball never stops. 

10. The opportunity to work in an extraordinary and diverse country during a period when China is redefining its role in the world.

There are many more reasons why living and working in China continues to be a rewarding experience for me; these are just a few items off the top of my head.  

An important recent event slipped largely under the radar in the China blogosphere as attention continued to focus on the troubled torch and Tibet tantrums. It seems that these two old pals were trying to do a deal. Here’s a snippet:

The boycott of a Chinese ship laden with weapons for Zimbabwe has cast new light on the connections between the African country’s president, Robert Mugabe, and a secretive Chinese arms-trading firm with a controversial track record from the Congo to Darfur.

Recent comments on this blog have, predictably, pointed the finger at western imperialism and the slave trade, emphasizing the perception in China that their country would never engage in such immoral dealings or interfere in the politics of another country. Really?

It would have been wonderful to see a condemnation and removal of the high ranking officials lining their pockets at the expense of African lives; I guess their connections to the party elite are a little too strong:

Major General He Ping, the company’s chairman, is the son-in-law of Deng Xiaoping, the former Chinese leader; its president, Wang Jun, is the son of a vice-president and a Deng ally. Its upper ranks are stuffed with military veterans and their offspring, who have greatly enriched themselves with arms sales to some of Africa’s bloodiest trouble spots.

Read the entire report here.

What sort of strategy, I wonder, lies behind the intended sale of this particular arms shipment to a man devoid of any good intentions? Maybe these two guys can tell us:

The rights of the individual and minorities have been trampled on by Chinese mobs in recent weeks. This isn’t negativity or bias; it’s simply the truth. I refuse to allow CCTV to give their usual rosy account of their citizens’ behaviour abroad without taking a less blinkered look at events.

Australia, in company with all ‘western’ countries, defends the right of the individual, or the minority, to express themselves. Chinese citizens abroad have abused their own right to gather in protest by acting in concert to deny smaller numbers from expressing views or displaying banners/flags that their government doesn’t like. And far from doing this in a peaceful way, as seen in Canberra this morning, there have been instances of harassment and aggression against people exercising the birthright afforded them by their nationality; the right to non-violent free expression. It is absolutely not the place of anyone, Chinese or otherwise, to interfere in that process.

China is unique insofar as it has such large numbers of citizens spread around the globe who respond almost in unison to their country’s call for action. That is a problem, because they are not acting out of a sense of injustice, personal sentiment, or free will, but rather through a centrally orchestrated groupthink mentality. Add a liberal sprinkling of induced nationalistic fervour to the dynamics of group behaviour and you’ve got yourself a militia.

And yes, I fully acknowledge that it is not every overseas Chinese behaving aggressively towards those with opposing views, although China seems more than happy to blame all French, British, and Americans for the indiscretions of a few.

Chinese people at home and abroad must grow up to the fact that declaring themselves a tolerant people doesn’t make it true. Only their behaviour can demonstrate that. Today, and previously in London, Paris, and San Francisco, intolerance and intimidation was used to drown voices trying to be heard in their own country. Now that’s intolerable.  

I’ll say it again - protesting as legitimate visa/passport holders overseas is fine, but not when it interferes with the right of other people to express their contradictory opinions. The sad thing is, I’m sure that very few Chinese will be anything other than proud of their countrymen’s behaviour in recent weeks. If I’m right about that, ‘one world, one dream’ is beginning to look like a very distant prospect. 

More importantly, China needs to act immediately to get their house in order before things get completely out of control.

This is how insensitivity and short-sighted ignorance can make a mountain out of a molehill. In response to the torch protests in Paris and the boss of Carrefour holding a different view of the Dalai Lama than the Motherland, Chinese anger has led to the French tricolour being adorned with swastikas.

As commenters at Zhongnanhai and Peking Duck point out, it is not hard to imagine China’s response to their flag being covered with the symbol of their WW2 occupiers.

I’m neither French nor Chinese, but this action is far more worthy of an apology than the disruptions of a few protesters in Paris. I suspect France will be waiting for a long time.

One of the arguments I hear a lot from Chinese lately is that Tibet has been a part of China for hundreds of years. Although I don’t want to get into that particular debate here, I would like to know why on Earth the Chinese government has such a problem with the Tibetan flag.

Go here and you will read exactly how much Tibetan symbolism and culture is wrapped up in the flag’s design. It is no exaggeration to say that the flag is an integral part of Tibetan culture, the very thing that the CCP would have us believe they are committed to protecting.

The origins of the Tibetan flag, which adopted its present form in 1912, date back nearly 1200 years, longer than the Chinese claims that Tibet has been part of its territory. If anyone has more information about the history of the Tibetan flag, please let me know.

So why do these new CCP boys have such an issue with the Tibetan flag when previous dynasties just looked on admiringly at the lovely design (the PRC flag is very young by comparison).

Of course, the CCP’s jealous nature views the flag as a symbol of a Tibetan identity outside of their control, and Beijing has never displayed tolerance for anything or anyone that challenges them for popularity. Just ask the Falun Gong.

On a related note, I’ve been appalled at the weakness of foreign governments in bowing to Chinese pressure and harassing or arresting those protesters waving the Tibetan flag in countries that are supposedly defenders of free speech. Equally troubling to my mind have been the enraged reactions of overseas Chinese at the sight of the flag, often chasing down and fighting with those displaying it.

I have this message for all Chinese for whom this beautiful design induces hysteria: It’s a flag for Christ’s sake, and it’s been around for centuries longer than your own. It really is time to grow up on this issue. 

The flag will remain on this site as a symbol of the tolerance the world demands and expects (but is so often denied) of a powerful country. If Tibetan history is intertwined with that of China and its people, then the flag is a part of their cultural heritage too. And yet, anyone daring to display these colours risks certain arrest and imprisonment. 

Many people will be taking this flag to Beijing. How China chooses to deal with its display will say more to the watching world about China’s progress as a nation than gold medals or large buildings. If you’re in China, of course, delayed coverage and censorship will certainly deny people the right to see such images. 

The Tibetan flag is full of meaning; it is a rich tapestry of history and culture dating back centuries. In the name of peace, harmony, and tolerance, let it fly.